Greatest Movie Endings*... EVER...

It's that time of year again: awards season. And I couldn't be more excited!!! Well, I could be more excited... Maybe if the films nominated were good... That would be more exciting.

To be fair, I've only seen four of the ten nominees: "Poor Man's Baseball", "Poor Black Maids", "Poor Filmmaker Can't Afford Sounds or Color Film", and "Owen Wilson is a Lot More Like Woody Allen Than Anyone Ever Suspected... Poor Owen Wilson". And while none of these films were particularly bad, they've all left me wanting more (or less, as in "After watching The Help, I wish I were LESS likely to kill myself").

Brilliant, Eh!?!?!

So I got to thinking about all the films I've seen, and which ones left me with the greatest feeling of fulfillment or closure. Which ones really wrapped it up and tied a bow around it while using every last shot and squeezing every last drop of "movie" out of their allotted two hours.

Why an "*", you ask??? Because when I say "Ending" I refer to the closing shots of a film. The last handful of frames is the ending i refer to, not the "he was a ghost the whole time" aspect of cinema. Also, these aren't necessarily what I consider the greatest films ever. While Lawrence of Arabia rocks my balls off and would easily make my top ten films, it's doesn't really crack the "best ending" list.

And in case you're ridiculous: SPOILER ALERT.

Raiders of the Lost Ark
Well why not? Why not start off with the universal code for "winner"?
Indy walks off into the sunset, arm-in-arm with the lovely Miss Ravenwood to go get a drink... you know? A drink? Cut to: the greatest bureaucratic force known to man: The US government. After Dr. Jones found the Ark for the third time, rode on the outside of a submarine, escaped the ancient pyramids complete with asps, outran one of Sensitive Bro's balls, and, oh yeah, BEAT THE F*CKING NAZIS, the G-men decide to lock the Ark away in a top-secret government warehouse. The camera pulls back to show the Ark surrounded by the moutains of other national cover-ups. There, the Ark will spend the rest of it's days side-by-side with the nations biggest secrets, like the Lindbergh baby, the Pearl Harbor warning memos, and some of that Free-Mason  bullshit. Cue Indy's music, roll credits, and spend the rest of your life trying to forget about the crystal skull.

Being There
Take note Sean Penn, Tom Hanks, and Dustin Hoffman: This is how you do "mentally challenged". Chance, the Gardener (or "Chauncey Gardiner"), is one of cinemas greatest innocents. As the casket of Benjamin Rand is being sent into the Earth, the most powerful men in the country can be heard in whispers informing us of the only possible future of America. A future with Chauncey Gardiner as president. And as these men are determining the fate of the free world, there's Chance. Just wandering by the water... and then he walks on it. Credits. Is he Jesus? Nope. It's just that nobody told him he couldn't. And at that moment, we understand that the world is safe.

Roman Holiday
Gregory Peck. He takes it all in. Waits a moment to see if she'll return. Accepts the outcome. Then he makes the long slow stride across the palace court and into forever, confident that he's done right. This is a sentimental choice, because if there's a heaven that is exactly how Gregory Peck walked into it in 2003.

Don't worry about the bouncer. Just come on in.

Alien 3
I have taken a mountain of shit for my defense of this movie. Yes, it was clearly the weakest of the original three films. No argument there. But this much-maligned third installment has received what I feel is an unfair amount of criticism. First of all, it followed two of the greatest sci-fi films of all time. Anything that wasn't an all-out, balls-to-the-wall home-run was going to be somewhat of a let down. Seriously: if this were just a stand-alone monster movie everyone would have loved it. Secondly, there are so many flashes of Fincher brilliance splashed throughout this film. The bleakness that would become a trademark of his is what most remember of Alien 3. And finally, Sigourney Weaver's performance was amazing, exhausting, and heartbreaking. (Also, "Alien: Resurrection" sucked)

I also love going with the "amusement park" theory here: Alien = The Haunted House. Aliens = The roller-Coaster. Alien 3 = The Hall of Mirrors... See? Fun!

One of the more light-hearted moments of Alien3.

The lights are shutting off on prison planet fury. The "company" is leaving, dragging the one surviving prisoner with them, either to relocate him or to "relocate" him, if you know what I mean. As Ripley has already met her inevitable demise, the camera pans through the now abandoned halls and shaftways of the darkened prison when we hear a familiar voice. We arrive at a wreckage silo where the crashed escape craft that Ripley arrived in is resting in pieces. The last bit of life is a computer screen from the destroyed ship and Ripley's disembodied voice repeating the message she left at the end of her first encounter with the beast so many years ago: "This is Ripley. Last survivor of the Nostromo... Signing off."
And the screen goes black.
Perfect ending to the story and the woman.

Castaway
In the same spirit as Alien 3, debates of the ending of the film Castaway have had a less-than-celebratory effect of the types of slurs people use to describe my tastes. But here's the Shyamalan: we were not debating the actual ending of the movie, so much as what happens after the ending...
"Captain Every-Man" Tom Hanks has made his way back home and is rightfully celebrated as an American hero. A man risen from the ashes to return home to us. And as he makes his way across the open roads of America, he is finally able to deliver that one mysterious package to it's rightful owner... who just so happens to be a smokin'-hot babe. And there he stands at the crossroads of life (which in this case is literally a crossroads... thanks for spelling it out for us, Zemeckis). Fade to black.
Now here's the rub: I do not for one second think he goes back to that woman's house to get it on with her hippie-ass. It's called symbolism, people. His life is now the open roads. He has options. A choice. Freedom to do with the rest of his life whatever he wants. He's just going to end the journey right there at the first rest-stop??? Bull-Shit.
But for what it's worth, everyone on the planet disagrees with me... Tom Hanks included.
(sidebar: the only unbelievable thing about this movie is that he did all that shit to get back to Helen Hunt... Would you build a raft to sail across the Pacific for a scoop of vanilla ice-cream?)

Fight Club
Arguably the best. The robe. The Pixies. The subtle hand-holding. The one-by-one collapse of the buildings that hold all the worlds capitalism inside of them... And then one final penis-shot. Brilliant. Iconic. Perfect.

The only relationship ever where Helena Bonham Carter is the "normal one".

 The End??? (Bum-Bum-Bummmmmm!!!)

The Broadside of A Barn... That Jesus Built.

Well, for most discerning football fans the season is over. Seriously, let's take a closer look at the final four:

1) Baltimore Ravens... yawn. A great defense, but nothing to really get behind.
2) San Francisco... wow, I am getting sleepy... maybe I'll just take a little nap. I'll just "rest my eyes" for a bit.
3) The New York Football Giants... zzz... they're terrible...zzz.
4) The Patriots... zzz- WHAT THE HELL!!! I just had a nightmare that New England was back in the... Oh... Son-of-a-bitch.

GET OFF MY MOTHER-F*CKING LAWN!

So let's take a look back at the season that was. Great moments. Broken records. Unnecessary gymnastics. Oh, Jesus! How could I forget?! We had Jesus... A LOT of Jesus.

Yes, this was the year of the Tebow. Or more to the point, the "Tebites". So let's talk about him. And them.

Let's just get this out of the way: Tim Tebow was fun to watch. And not in the "God, Joe Montana is fun to watch" kind of way. Tebow was fun to watch in the "Man he's awful. But he's gonna blow it up any minute now" kind of way. Honestly, 90% of the fun that was "Tebow-Mania" was the build up. The anticipation we all had whilst waiting for the impossible to happen. We all sat there waiting for that moment, that one play that would ignite the fuse of the magical dynamite that was the Denver Broncos 2-minute-offense. And a handful of times, that play actually happened. And most magically, it happened on the first play of overtime in the first-round of the play-offs. And if anyone outside of the greater Steel-city metro area suggests that this moment wasn't exhilarating... they're full of it.

Now, nobody not currently in a church really believes that the kid is magical. Or the future of his team. But he's a pretty good guy. Tim Tebow is not polarizing. He's just a faith-based guy that loves his god and loves his job, and no matter what you've been told, he is NOT in your face about his religion. He is insanely likeable... But you know who isn't??? His fans/devotees/cult members. They are polarizing. They are insanely unlikeable. And they are the reason that Tebow is viewed with such skepticism and annoyance by the rest of the country.

Let's go back about a month. Saturday Night Live performed a sketch set in the Broncos locker room post-victory where Tebow... hell, you saw it. Anyhow, the sketch was very funny (if a bit unfair to St. Tim). But you know who didn't find it funny? The Tebites. They were outraged. How dare a national comedy show poke fun at a national figure?!?! How dare a joke-based show make jokes!?!? HOW DARE THEY IMPERSONATE JESUS ON NATIONAL TV (Even though they've done that several times in the past)?!?!

I KNEW IT!!!

But you know who didn't seem to have a problem with it? That's right. Mr. Tebow said nothing. While nut-monkey extraordinaire Pat Robertson was condemning the East-Coast sketch-comedy elitists to hell, Ol' Timmy T went out and played his awkward, yet inspired game (Actually, the day after this sketch aired the Broncos played the Patriots... so not so much inspired that day, just awkward ... but you get the idea).

So the next time you encounter a Tebite,  and they say anything close to the phrase "We told you so!"... here's what you reply: "Yes. You told me so. With no evidence to the contrary, you threw your support behind a wish. And you nailed it. Congrats." Then just walk away because this is not a winnable argument you're about to have.

What the future holds for the Denver Tebows in unknown. It seems that Elway and the rest of the Denver brass are making a very public, possibly genuine, show of support for their quarterback as the hunt for a traditional pocket-passer appears to have been temporarily suspended. So what next??? Hey, here's an idea: what if, and just bare with me now, what if Tebow could get some tutelage from someone? You know, a real traditional passer with good form and all the tangibles. Someone experienced. Someone with wisdom. A retired legend. A hall-of-famer with maybe , i don't know, 2 Super Bowl rings and over 50,000 passing yards??? Yeah, that would be great.

If only he had access to someone like that.

The Icarian Nightmare... Louisiana Remix

And thus ends the worst sports-week in Louisiana history.

Now don't get me wrong, there have been seasons when the Saints went 3-13 and Aaron Brooks was throwing passes straight backwards, and LSU was 3-8 and thanking Baby Jesus that Tulane was still on the schedule. But given the expectations that this week began with, this has been nothing short of an Icarus-inspired plummet to the Earth. It started Monday evening with Goof-Ball U and that ridiculous game-non-plan. And it ends on Saturday night, approximately 127 hours later.

And coincidentally enough, it does feel like somebody cut our collective arm off... And then used it to beat us to death.

Dude, we can totally relate.

Wow. We just got hit with a ten-thousand-pound sh*t-hammer of reality that will be eased only slightly by the upcoming Mardi Gras season. With nothing but daylight ahead of them, the Saints were tripped up and sent home by their old nemesis. Their old rival from back in the yesteryear of the NFC West. That thorn in our sides that we thought had long since been permanently removed to never bother us again. Yes, it's hard to even say the name, but here goes... the Saints were beaten by the Aints... The 49ers get the assist.

Five turnovers. Five turnovers in the game. One on the opening drive at the 49er's 2-yard-line. Several deep in our own territory. Insurmountable.

Or so one would think.

Somehow, with five turnovers (FIVE TURNOVERS), the Saints still found themselves in the game. And not only in the game, but in the lead... TWICE! And all that was needed to win was to play "not horrible" defense on San Francisco's last two possessions. All that was needed was to contain Alex Smith, a man so easily containable that you can buy Tupperware in his shape. All that was needed was to prevent Smith from becoming an unholy hybrid of Joe Montana and Steve Young in the last 5 minutes of the game and for cornerbacks and safeties to not get burned by tight ends.
That's all that was needed.

But that was too much too ask. As if out of an NFL films Jim Mora retrospective, the New Orleans Saints went into a prevent style defense that serves only to prevent you from winning the game. Tight ends got behind corners. A quarterback who for so many years has only scrambled for his life (and occasionally eggs) scurried into the endzone untouched from over twenty yards out. And two touchdown drives in the final minutes sealed the Saints fate.

It's hard to point fingers, if only for the fact that there are so many to blame and, alas, me with just the ten fingers. But it's also hard to imagine that there will not be some serious second-guessing involving the defensive side of the ball. Will it be a coaching change? Player Personnel? Who knows.

Again, the offense did their fair share to make this loss happen. In case i didn't mention it: Five turnovers. But this is far from the first time our defense has let us down in the last two seasons. In the Saints four losses this season, the offense has averaged 26.8points/game. Not shabby in the least. But this is a recurring pattern with the defense. The theme of the pattern? As long as the offense keeps scoring forty-two points/game, it's okay that we allow thirty.

Not this time.

It's been a great season. And yes, it is a great thing that our team losing in the divisional round of the play-offs is what we have to complain about. I understand that this is who we are now. We're team perpetually in the hunt. We are the predators, no longer the prey. But that transformation has led us to expect more now. We're not the "Aints". We expect to have a championship defense to go with our amazing offense. We expect to not have five turn-overs. And we expect to not make stupid decisions like flying too close to the sun and melting our wings off.

Let's All Be Rational For A Sec...

Re: National Title "Game" (and I use that term incredibly loosely)
These are trying times down here in the Dirty South. A lot of folks with too much time on their hands and whacked-out priorities have been making a LOT of excuses for their football gods.
An exchange from the film "The Big Chill" spring to mind:
"I don't know anyone who could get through the day without two or three juicy rationalizations. They're more important than sex."
"Ah, come on. Nothing's more important than sex."
"Oh yeah? Ever gone a week without a rationalization?"

Excellent question, Jeff Goldblum! Has anyone gone a whole week without rationalizing? I know Ol' Nathan hasn't. It's how we survive our shortcomings in life. It's how we learn from our mistakes. It's how a handful of nimrods make fortunes coming up with inspirational phrases to put on pictures of the Grand Canyon or kittens hanging from tree branches. People rationalize as to why they didn't get that promotion. They rationalize why their lovers leave them. And finally, they rationalize why,  at one point or another, we all  must shuffle off this mortal coil. And all of these understandable efforts of humanity to reason.

This Goldblum cat really has hid head on straight.

But in all my life and with all the excuses that I've made, I have never seen human beings go to such lengths to rationalize the loss of a football game. And because it's worth repeating, a football game... That you weren't even playing in!

LSU got jack-hammered by a bigger line, a quarterback playing the game of his career, and a coach on a mission.
And that is all. Those are the reasons that the LSU Tigers lost the BCS championship game to Alabama.
There may very well be some tension between LSU coach Les Miles and back-up quarterback Jarrett Lee. There may have also been a fight amongst the players the week of the game. And yes, the players may indeed have gone out to see the new Mark Wahlberg film "Contraband". And while that last one may very well be reason enough to kill one's self, none of these contributed to a 21-0 defeat at the gigantic paws of the Crimson tide.

I love my Tigers. And it runs deep. But as a fan-base, at this moment we are operating with a logic-deprivation commensurate with that of a child who lost his first short-goal pee-wee basketball game. There just has to be a reason we lost!!! I mean, of course, other than the basic reasoning that the better team won!!!

As one might imagine, I've shared this theory with some fellow Tigers over the last few days. And as you also might imagine, my thoughts were not received exceptionally well by the Tiger faithful. After a few of the conversations I felt like the LSU offensive line must have felt around 11:00 on Monday night.

That'll teach me to be rational.